


amber, ice

by klutzysurgeon



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alcohol, Early Squad Ten, Eye Color, Gen, Pre-Relationship or Platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzysurgeon/pseuds/klutzysurgeon
Summary: in an AU where people's eyes change color based on their mood, the smile on Hitsugaya's face is more surprising than his eyes stuck on permanent blue.





	amber, ice

**Author's Note:**

> blue, the most human color

If one more person asks him why he's upset, he's going to kill them, laws and regulations be damned.  
  
Yes, his eyes are still blue. Yes, they were blue earlier, yesterday, and last week too. No, he's not really glaring at everyone with disapproval.  
  
Most of the time, at least.

It's just how he is, how he's always been. People's eyes change color with their mood; that's as simple a fact as saying the sun rises in the ease, and it's just as taken for granted. Though some have learned to mask it, for most people they simply can't hide how they feel. It's true from birth, true till death, for _everyone_ it seems, except him.  
  
No matter how hard Hitsugaya has tried otherwise, his eyes never change. They are always, always that damn piercing icy blue, a color commonly associated with distance and disapproval. As if the world never measured up to his standards, even when he was just a baby, a small child– he remembers still, feelings etched into his soul of being too young to understand why the villagers didn't like him, fighting back tears as he wondered what he did wrong.  
  
He knows now, rationally at least, that he did nothing wrong. It's not his fault he was born like this. He doesn't even know why he's like this, though he suspects he might; sometimes he wonders if _they_ knew all along, knew that there was ice in his veins, that Hyorinmaru would choose him. As if he was born only for that.

Maybe he was.  
  
Most of the time, he just doesn't think of it at all. There's work to be done, and when there isn't, he trains, or naps. Idle seconds are wasteful. And it never fails to occur to him just how ironic it is that he's ended up with a Lieutenant whose favourite thing in the world seems to be idling. Somehow, it feels like the universe is laughing at him.   
  
"It's called taking a break, Captain. Highly necessary for morale. It can even boost productivity!" Matsumoto grins, leaning over his desk with inviting honey eyes, the type that offer kindness for nothing in return. He's seen that color directed at him in only three pairs of eyes in his life and he always wonders why anyone would be so kind when this world will not return it– indifferent brown the most common eye color, pretty like tree trunks in nature but just as uncaring if you should fall.   
  
More than that, he just wonders why she keeps trying with him as he turns an icy blue glare on her for what must be the thousandth time, disapproving tone ringing out. "In order to _boost_ productivity, you would have to be productive in the first place, Lieutenant."   
  
She pouts, arms crossed in front of her chest as he files away another bit of seemingly endless paperwork. "So mean! See, that's probably stress getting to you."

 _Mean._ He can handle mean. A Captain must be stern, and he’s already heard the murmurs of discontent, people wondering why a _child_ got the position, some calling it an insult to Squad Ten. Mean is fine as long as the work gets done, though he knows Rangiku is only teasing. Still, he braces himself for the inevitable comments, the ones the squad has had ever since he was appointed as Captain last week, braces himself for _"I mean, just look at your eyes!"_   
  
His pen stops its movements on the paperwork when that doesn't come, the next words out of her mouth being: "I mean, just look at the bags under your eyes! Have you even slept since your ceremony?"

It feels almost like a slap in the way a rude comment wouldn’t have. Of course Rangiku wouldn’t say something like that. She never has, from their first meeting throughout all his time as a third seat. He _was_ still rather detached back then, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been surprising to never see a softer color, but now…

As a Captain, he should at least be expected to show some slack to his Lieutenant. Yet she asks no questions, aiming her pestering only towards her own strange way of trying to take care of him.  
  
"Of course I've slept," he grumbles despite himself. "Though it's hard to sleep for long, knowing the squad has paperwork dating back to before I even entered the Academy. Honestly, what was Captain Shiba doing?"

Hitsugaya's barely glanced up from his paperwork, but even so, he can see the flash of light pink in her eyes, pain quickly masked with a neutral brown and he regrets the casual comment.   
  
Because he misses Captain Shiba too, but he can't show it, not if he wants to be a good Captain himself. He thinks Matsumoto might understand, the swiftness of her masking an admirable feat.   
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if he just forgot, that guy," she laughs, only half forced.   
  
He's only just become Captain, but he's already a little tired of it. Half is too much. "Matsumoto."   
  
Her head tilts up, green eyes piqued with interest. He slides his chair back, gives a small sigh that's more fond than irritated. "Let's take a break."   
  
The grin that graces her face is worth it, even as all his yells of "It's just for a little while" and "We're going back to work after this" and "Are you _listening,_  Matsumoto!?" are ignored and he scowls to cover up the way the corners of his lips try to twitch upwards.   
  
He catches his reflection in a mirror as they walk down the hallway, undoubtedly towards whatever alcohol Matsumoto has stashed– as if she didn't have any in the office, he's _well_ aware of the sake in the bookshelf– and icy blue eyes stare back at him, as always.   
  
For once, Hitsugaya doesn't notice, the nearly unnoticeable smile on his face drawing his attention instead. It surprises him despite himself, pausing and staring. He blinks once, twice. It’s not like his eyes have changed. It’s not like he should look any less disapproving, any less icy; it’s not as though he can really change anything, but–

He thinks he looks happy.  
  
And then Rangiku calls for him and the mirror is left behind, the soft lull of her voice ahead of him pulling his attention from thoughts of his reflection, and the soft clink of glasses washes the memory away entirely.   
  
If her eyes are the warmest amber he's ever seen, he blames the sake.

**Author's Note:**

> [pops the quietest party popper] happy birthday, Toshiro! an old doc I had sitting around. one of these days I'll write something more substantial, but for now, this. can be taken as the buddings of hitsumatsu or simply their platonic interactions in a new dynamic.
> 
> the first note is a lyric from Regina Spektor's song Blue Lips, by the way. ooh, I really want to write something more based off of that, now...


End file.
